There are moments in life that shape who we are, moments we don’t even recognize until years later. For me, that moment came one Easter morning in 2010. It was the day I realized how my family inspired my love for photography, a passion that began with a simple gesture from my grandfather when he, with all the reluctance of a man who cherished his prized DSLR camera, placed it in my tiny 12-year-old hands.

Little did I know, that simple gesture would change my life.

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Family Memories: Love in the Small Things

There’s a certain magic in looking back on childhood memories—those moments that seemed ordinary at the time but now hold so much weight. For me, those memories are filled with family: the sound of laughter echoing through the house, the smell of a home-cooked meal wafting down the hall from the kitchen, and the playful teasing and bickering between my siblings and parents that never seemed to stop. Through all of it, there was an undercurrent of love. It was there in the small things—like how my grandma would always smile as she sneaks me off into a side room and hand me a piece of candy or how my grandpa would let me take the lead in our games, even when we both knew I was bending the rules lol.

But there was one moment in particular, hidden among the many chaotic family gatherings, that changed the way I would think in the world.

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A Life-Changing Gesture

Some moments are fleeting, but photography allows us to hold onto these memories forever. I didn’t realize how true that was until one Easter afternoon in 2010, when my grandfather handed me his prized DSLR camera. That moment was the start of something much bigger than I could have imagined. It was the beginning of a love for photography that has followed me through life, capturing not just the technical aspects of a shot, but the raw, unfiltered beauty of moments frozen in time.

I was a wild child back then, a ball of energy with a talent for getting into trouble, so the fact that he trusted me with something so valuable felt like an honor and a challenge. I’m sure my whole family held their breath as they watched chaotic lil ole me running around with something more expensive than I was. I was the last person anyone would think to give something so precious to—especially something as delicate as a camera. But my Grandpa was different. He was wise, patient, and maybe a little bit of a risk-taker- at least when it came to me. He trusted me and that was enough of a reason to hold on to that thing with BOTH hands (and the neck strap.)

I can still feel the weight of that camera as it settled into my hands—along with a sense of responsibility and confidence I hadn’t quite felt before. That simple gesture, that moment of trust, sparked something in me that I didn’t fully understand back then. I had no idea that this moment would trigger a lifelong love for photography- an art that allows me to capture life’s transient moments, preserving them in a way that time can never erase.

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How It All Started:

It was Easter 2010—the kind of day that bursts with energy, laughter, and family. We were gathered at my grandparents’ house, just like we did every year as it was my grandma’s favorite holiday. The egg hunts were always the highlight of the day: one for the kids, one for the adults, and a special one for the small babies of the family. I was too old for the baby hunt and too young for the adults, so there I was, just wandering around, trying to soak it all in, as the smell of fresh-cut grass and blooming flowers filled the air.

I sat in the living room next to my grandfather, completely captivated by his beloved camera as he chatted up the room with words too big for me to understand. As a kid in that moment, the camera felt like a mystery waiting to be unraveled. My eyes were glued to it, and my grubby little fingers kept inching closer, trying to sneak a touch. — Soooo manyyy buttonnnnssss, and I needed to press them ALL!!! — He noticed my fascination and, with a quick dismissal, said, “Oh, it’s not for kids. It’s very expensive and easily breakable.” I was disappointed, but my puppy dog eyes and lip pout must’ve worked some charm because after a moment, he sighed and relented. “Okay, I’ll let you try it out. BUT you have to be VERY careful,” he said, his voice a mix of worry and trust.

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The Trust My Grandfather Had in Me

Then, my grandpa decided to take a chance on me. He handed over his cherished DSLR camera—it had about a million buttons, or so it seemed—and placed it in my hands like it was a family heirloom I didn’t even know I wanted. He carefully looped the strap around my neck, positioned my tiny hands on the camera body that felt way too big for me, and showed me how to put my eye to the viewfinder. I was captivated—more than I had ever been with any toy. “Just point and click,” he said in a hesitant but loving tone, trying to keep me from changing any of his carefully considered settings (what even is a camera setting, anyway? lol). His expression was a blend of reluctance and hope, annnnnd a bit of a silent plea not to ruin his precious camera. It was as if he were saying both, “I hope I don’t regret this” and “Oh God, please be very careful.” Meanwhile, my toys had no idea they were about to become the stars of a full-on photoshoot hahahaha

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To say my grandpa was nervous would be an understatement. He was watching me like a hawk, barking reminders about the camera strap and yelling “Don’t touch the settings!” I was pretty sure he was more stressed about me with the camera than my grandma filling the Easter Eggs with confetti, peanut butter, toothpaste, and egg yolks and us kids opening the eggs inside the house on his clean, bright, white carpet. (lol) But as he checked the photos throughout the day, his face softened. At one point, he called my mom over and said, “Hey, look at this one Kenedy took!”

In that moment, I felt this rush of pride. I might not have known what I was doing, but I was capturing something. It wasn’t about perfectly focused, well-lit photos—it was about the feeling. The raw, unfiltered emotions. Even though the photos were blurry, washed out, and far from perfect, the smiles were real, the laughter was real, and those moments were real.

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My First “Photoshoot”

The day was pure chaos, the kind you welcome with open arms—kids racing through the yard, laughter bouncing off every corner, and my mom and her siblings turning an Easter egg hunt into a full-contact sport, all for a shot at that grand prize, $100 bill, in the golden egg. Meanwhile, my grandma was in her element, carefully tucking away thousands of brightly colored eggs into the nooks and crannies of the garden she’d spent months nurturing. She stood back, watching the children she had raised with endless love and patience now raising their own children with the same boundless kindness and joy. She giggled at the frenzy unfolding. It was just another Easter, but in hindsight, it was so much more.

I started pointing the camera at everything—my baby sister toddling around and looking soooo cute during her very first Easter egg hunt; my cousins laughing and chasing each other through the yard, turning Easter eggs into impromptu footballs; my grandparents sitting on the patio, just beaming at the scene of their growing family. I captured my mom dancing and cooking in the kitchen—before she had to leave in an ambulance later that day (don’t worry, we laugh about it now, lol); my older sister deep in conversation with my uncle before leaving for the military that Summer; and my entire family gathered on the patio my grandfather built for my grandmother, a space now lost to time and change.

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What That Day Taught Me:

What I didn’t realize then—but cherish now— is how precious these photos would become. Some of the people, places, and relationships captured that day are no longer with us. My hilarious younger cousin, taken too soon in a car accident. My sweet grandma, later diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. The home my grandparents built together, which I called my safe place growing up, sold as my grandfathers health declines. That day, I learned the value of preserving family moments through photography. Every photo I took that Easter day told a story—of laughter, love, and the fleeting nature of time.

Looking back now, that day wasn’t just the start of my photography journey—it was a day that solidified how I view photography. It’s not always about technical perfection. It’s about preserving those fleeting moments that are otherwise gone in the blink of an eye. I see clearly how my family inspired my love for photography. It wasn’t just about snapping pictures; it was about capturing the essence of our family traditions and the joy we shared.

These photos, though imperfect, are a time capsule. They remind me that life moves fast, and while we can’t hold onto every moment, we can freeze them with a click of the button.

I was chasing smiles, laughter, moments. I didn’t know how to properly focus, I didn’t understand lighting, or camera shake, or anything really, but I did know this—I wanted to remember these moments forever.

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The Gift My Grandfather Gave Me

I’ll never forget the trust my grandfather placed in me that day, even if he was reluctant at first. That moment gave me my purpose—my passion for capturing the beauty in everyday life, for chasing laughter and smiles through my lens. Photography is more than just a hobby for me; it’s my way of holding onto cherish moments and keeping memories alive.

I realize now that photography has always been about more than just taking pictures. It’s about preserving the moments that slip through our fingers if we’re not careful. That Easter morning wasn’t just the start of my photography journey—it was a reminder that even the smallest gestures can create ripple effects we never see coming. Every click of my camera feels like a continuation of that gift my grandfather gave me, and every photo is a tribute to the moments that shaped me.

And it all started with a DSLR camera, an Easter egg hunt, and a grandfather who—thankfully—took a chance on his granddaughter.

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What Moments Have Shaped You?

Moments like these are the foundation of who we are, yet they’re often buried in our past, waiting to be remembered. Maybe it’s a teacher who believed in you, a friend who encouraged you to try something new, or a family member who gave you that extra nudge when you needed it. These moments are the building blocks of who we are, shaping the passions and paths we follow. Take a second to think about yours. What would your life look like without them?

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See Life Through a New Lens

Photography taught me something I didn’t expect: to look at life differently. It’s made me pause, reflect, and notice the beauty in the everyday. My challenge to you is this—whether you have a camera in your hands or not, start seeing the world through the lens of gratitude. Notice the details, the colors, the light, and the connections that make life so vibrant. And if you can, capture them, even if it’s just with your phone. Your future self will thank you.

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Turn your Moments into Timeless Photos

Do you have a moment or memory you want captured? Whether it’s the big milestones or the little everyday moments, I’d love to help preserve those for you—just as my grandpa helped me do for my family all those years ago. Reach out, and let’s capture your story together!

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Thank you for reading :) Comment a moment that helped to shape you in the comments below if you made it this far :)

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